Sweet Dreams Are Made Of These
by jimwhoreiarty
Summary: After John Watson was recruited to join an experimental project entitled "Operation Wonderland" things become curious and curiouser. Rated M for: future smut, profanity, and violence.
1. Falling Down the Rabbit Hole

"You need to sign here, here, here, initial here and here, and then sign again here," a young woman in a lab coat – most likely a scientist, John noted – instructed, pointing to the slots with a slightly chewed on pen. Her hair was a dirty blonde and a tad messy, but she was pretty nonetheless.

John stared incredulously at the sheets of paper the aforementioned woman gestured to, a slightly exasperated expression crossing his face. Since when did joining these things require so much paperwork? He was quite exhausted already from the mental and physical health exams, why could he not just be deemed fit and sent to start this…wonderland project. But alas, John Watson had the worst of luck. 

In all honestly, John did not really know what he was getting into; his information consisted of the general history and synopsis of the experiment and the idea he had that this experiment would be the adventure he had longed for since his forced retirement from the war. The lack of information did not really matter to John, he longed for excitement, and this would, hopefully, provide it.

His hands shook slightly as he gripped the pen the woman handed to him – this one was not chewed on, thankfully – but whether it was from excitement or nerves, he did not know. Narrowing his eyes to better read at least the title of the paper, he noticed a curious little pattern: the blanks lined up in such a way that it appeared to create rabbit ears. Considering the entire operation was entitled "Operation Wonderland" it was appropriate.

While John was penning his name dozens of times – okay, not dozens, but still, signing your name over and over got tedious - his eyes flickered to the woman. She stood there silently; her nose buried in a notebook as she wrote short, quick notes._ Curious_, he wondered, but shook it off.

Once the woman noticed John was finished, she snatched it out of his hands, giving John a paper cut or two. He was a tad bit miffed; she could have at least been nicer about it!

"Mr. Watson, follow me."

"Doctor. Doctor Watson," corrected John, slightly irked. He detested when people forgot he was a doctor; just because he was discharged from the war for injuries did not equate him no longer being a doctor.

"I apologize, Dr. Watson." The fact that she had a sarcastic tone on the word doctor did not escape John's notice. "Now, come with me, we're heading to the lab. Please note that your codename is now Alice and will answer to such when in the J.A.B.B.E.R." She spun on her heel and walked into the hallway, not waiting for John.

John sighed, rubbing his temples with his index fingers. "Alice, really, Alice?" he murmured to himself, before following the scientist out into the hallway. 

The hallway the woman had led him to John found to be poorly lit too long for his leg to walk quickly. Unmarked metal doors lined the two walls, with an occasional groan or banging noise emitting from them. As they walked, John and the scientist, the sounds turned to screams; John was actually right in front of a door as the loudest scream by far came out of it.

Much to John's chagrin, he screamed. The woman only gave him a condescending look, which angered John.

"I wasn't scared, you know? I was in Afghanistan. It only startled me." 

"They weren't real. We just put those in to scare the newbies," she stated, her tone giving away how amused she was by John's outburst. "Now come on, let's get you into what Anderson likes to call 'Home Base.' Anderson is kind of a douche," the woman smiled softly at this, something that did not escape John's notice. "But it's just the control room where we work and you and the others get inserted into Wonderland"

John tried to stifle a grin at the rather professional scientist woman using the word douche, so instead he opted to stick his tongue out at her behind her back, still a little miffed at the woman attempting to scare him like that. He gripped his cane tighter in an effort to catch up to the scientist, excitement beginning to creep in.

"Now, in Wonderland you'll have a partner. Yours is codename Hatter. Please, try not to piss him off. He's the best mind we've got here." 

Lucky for John, they had arrived at the control room; his leg was beginning to bother him. The woman pulled on the handle, opening the door to reveal a technological haven. Rows upon rows of men and women hunched over computers, cups of coffee and notebooks greeted John. His eyes flickered everywhere, not quite sure where to begin looking, but ten odd looking machines lined against the left wall caught his attention. "Those must be the J.A.B.B.E.R.s," John observed, not quite speaking to anyone in particular.

"Everyone, may I have your attention? This is Dr. John Watson, also known as codename Alice, he will be working with us until further notice."

John was only greeted by the backs of heads, but nevertheless he gave an awkward smile and a wave to those who did glance up at him. The scientist strode away from him, distracted by some other task, leaving John alone with disinterested strangers. Lovely.

He leaned heavily on his cane – a nervous habit of his – glancing around in hopes of someone telling him what the hell he was supposed to do. Fortunately, an angel in the form of a man came to his rescue.

"Hmm, Dr. Watson, you must be my new partner. My last partner wouldn't cooperate; hopefully you'll be better than him. I'm Sherlock Holmes by the way, codename Mad Hatter. I don't know why they call me that. I wear scarves for God's sake!"

John nodded at the man before him, almost awestruck simply by his mannerisms and voice. Sherlock commanded attention in a room, but seemed to have a sense of intelligence and adventure about him, immediately drawing John in. Hopefully, John would enjoy working with Sherlock.

"Funny, I pictured my new partner a bit…taller."

Never mind, then.


	2. Welcome to Wonderland

Sherlock Holmes was an insufferable ass, as John Watson came to realize. Not that he minded, honestly. John could deal with his quirks –if you could call them that—because Sherlock had something about him, maybe it was the way he carried himself or perhaps the way he was almost always right, but he reminded John of the war. Sherlock exuded an air of danger and mischief, carefully hidden behind the guise of an apathetic genius.

John had only spent a few hours with this man to come to this realization, listening in a mixture of amazement and curiosity, as he explained the intricacies of the entire Operation Wonderland project and then practically told John his life story. When he asked, baffled, how he had done it, Sherlock merely replied "Observation is key, John."

This reply left John a bit nonplussed, how could anyone guess a person's entire life story correctly, well except for thinking Harry was a man, just by looking at him. As he opened his mouth to ask another question, Sherlock cut him off. "Please refrain from idiotic questions; I know you're capable of higher level ones. I observe people, then I deduce. It's all quite obvious to me. I use my eyes, unlike most people. Now, shall I continue the tour?"

John opened his mouth to say something quite rude, but thought better of it and nodded a quick yes.

"This is our room where we'll stay. I have the top bunk." Sherlock gestured with his long fingers to a plain door marked 221b. 221b, 221b, 221b. John repeated it multiple times to imprint the number into his head as to not wander into the wrong room and see something he would not like to.

"Why do you get the top bunk?" John asked indignantly, still a bit irked with Sherlock. He, quite frankly, did not give a damn about what bed he slept in; he just felt like arguing with Sherlock. That was quite out of character for him, but he felt strangely comfortable around this odd fellow.

"I was here first," Sherlock answered simply.

"Oh, whatever. So, can you tell me how this whole operation thing works? I'm still really confused."

Sherlock turned, giving John a curious look. Had they not explained **anything **to him?

"Listen carefully, Alice, I dislike repeating myself. Operation Wonderland is an experiment testing the power of human imagination. We take a certain pill, putting us into a sleep like state and then we are hooked up to the J.A.B.B.E.R., which I'm still not sure means. The pill they use stimulates the imagination, which is key to the experiment. Once hooked up to the .B.E.R. Our minds are sent to Wonderland as a collective group. It would be you, codename Red Queen, codename Cheshire Cat, and me. We all have bodies to move around in and once in there our thoughts are entirely our own again. It's different from any experiment I've ever seen but it's so… fascinating."

John listened closely, taking this all in. This was all too strange but it was so exciting and so much could go wrong and it was just what he needed. "I see, when do I start?"

"Tomorrow."

Excitement began to grow in the pit of John's stomach. Finally, something was happening.

* * *

><p>At promptly six a.m. John Watson awoke to Sherlock Holmes hanging over the side of his bed demanding a cup of coffee or tea, either would work he said.<p>

"Sod off," was John's reply and he turned away from Sherlock in an attempt to fall asleep again.

At six thirty a.m. Sherlock woke him up again, but this time he had appeared to have been talking for a good ten minutes and finally realized John was not listening. "Wake up! This is important."

"What on Earth could be important at six thirty a.m.?"

"I want coffee."

* * *

><p><em>My name is John Watson and I am 37 years old.<br>They call me Alice.  
>Today I fall down the rabbit hole.<br>Today I begin to lose my mind._

* * *

><p>By the time John Watson fully awakes, Sherlock is gone. Probably went force someone else to make him coffee because when John is tired he does not get up for anyone, not even the enigmatic Sherlock Holmes.<p>

After deciding on his favorite jumper – an off white one that was particularly cozy— he wandered out into the halls, quite lost as to where he could find breakfast or even just people in general. Most halls looked identical, except for a rare few markers explaining where the hell they were, but unfortunately there were none in this hall. Lovely.

He began walking in what he hoped was the direction of the lab where he first met Sherlock, that would seem the most likely place people would be. It was eerie almost, how identical everything was. Same walls, same doors, same signs, same air fresheners even! John looked behind him, seeing everything before him repeated.

John shut his eyes, attempting to remember the route he and Sherlock took, but to no avail. He sighed and rubbed his temples, extremely frustrated at becoming lost in a building. Out the corner of his eye, John noticed something move. Looking up, he saw a white rabbit, larger than any normal rabbit should be, and it was staring at him. "Bloody hell I need sleep," John mumbled and shook his head.

"Follow me!" the rabbit said, causing John to nearly fall over.

It's not every day one meets a talking rabbit and it's certainly not something one would know how to handle.

"You're late! I'm late! We're late we're late we're late! Follow me!" and with that the rabbit promptly hopped away with or without John.

"Oh my god, I'm following a hallucination," John groaned, internally shaking his head at himself. Here he was, a grown man, hallucinating like some crackhead or something and following it nonetheless? "I'm losing it," John decided and jogged after the rabbit.

"Wait up!" he called out, not wanting to get even more lost.

"We're late! Hurry up!"

John knew how idiotic it was to follow a rabbit that his mind made up, but he was curious. Perhaps that's why they called him Alice. But John was so bored with his life and so bored with blogging and so bored with doing nothing. This experiment was the first bit of fun he had in a long time so he was just going to go with what happened.

After a short while of running after the infuriatingly quick rabbit, they had arrived at the lab. Shocked, John looked at the rabbit with wonder, while simultaneously nearly gasping for breath from the sheer amount of running he had done. "Thank you," he panted, trying to feel normal about thanking a rabbit, a hallucination nonetheless.

The rabbit nodded and scampered off, leaving John in front of the doors he walked through yesterday. He paused a few moments to catch his breath, not quite wanting to walk in there panting like a dog, he already was called Alice and he did not want any more nonsense like that. Smoothing his jumper flat again, he proceeded to open the doors to the lab.

"You're late," a familiar voice said, and John groaned.

"You didn't wake me up!"

"You didn't get me coffee." Sherlock looked at John curiously and what appeared to be a smile flickered across his face and disappeared just as quickly.

Did Sherlock Holmes just smile at John? However rude it might be, John wasn't sure Sherlock was capable of smiling, not a fake smile, but a real one. He did not seem the type.

"No more flirting, it's getting boring," a stranger's voice interrupted, and John turned to see a younger fellow with a curious smile on his face staring at Sherlock. He had an almost gleeful tone but there was something about him that made John's flesh crawl. There was something off about him; he just couldn't put his finger on it.

"Moriarty, leave them alone and come take your pill," a young woman, not the same one who brought him here yesterday, but a kinder looking lady. Her nametag read Molly Hooper.

"You too, John," Molly continued, giving John a smile. "Don't be scared if you start seeing stuff, sometimes the pill kicks in early," she whispered to him, handing him a cup with a small blue pill.

He wanted to laugh and tell her how he didn't need a pill to see stuff, but then she'd think he was mad, something John did not particularly want.

"Here goes nothing," John mumbled to himself, popping the pill in his mouth and swallowing.

"Alright, let's get you hooked up," Molly said, leading John to where Moriarty and Sherlock were already in the J.A.B.B.E.R.s. "Oh, take off your jumper, too"

John groaned, but complied, pulling the warmth off his body, exposing his bare arms. Lying down in the cool metal machine, John tried not to squirm as he was stuck with needles and had some strange headgear stuck on his head.

"Try to relax, okay?"

John nodded and closed his eyes, breathing in and out deeply. For the first time, a bit of nerves came and he bit his lip as a painful sensation took over his body. It felt like fire coursing through his veins but John never showed a reaction to pain, he was trained not to after those years in Afghanistan. Each moment it seemed as if his body was heating from the inside when suddenly, everything went black.

"Welcome to Wonderland, Alice," a quiet voice murmured.


	3. The War Begins

Sherlock Holmes was an insufferable ass, as John Watson came to realize. Not that he minded, honestly. John could deal with his quirks –if you could call them that—because Sherlock had something about him, maybe it was the way he carried himself or perhaps the way he was almost always right, but he reminded John of the war. Sherlock exuded an air of danger and mischief, carefully hidden behind the guise of an apathetic genius.

John had only spent a few hours with this man to come to this realization, listening in a mixture of amazement and curiosity, as he explained the intricacies of the entire Operation Wonderland project and then practically told John his life story. When he asked, baffled, how he had done it, Sherlock merely replied "Observation is key, John."

This reply left John a bit nonplussed, how could anyone guess a person's entire life story correctly, well except for thinking Harry was a man, just by looking at him. As he opened his mouth to ask another question, Sherlock cut him off. "Please refrain from idiotic questions; I know you're capable of higher level ones. I observe people, then I deduce. It's all quite obvious to me. I use my eyes, unlike most people. Now, shall I continue the tour?"

John opened his mouth to say something quite rude, but thought better of it and nodded a quick yes.

"This is our room where we'll stay. I have the top bunk." Sherlock gestured with his long fingers to a plain door marked 221b. 221b, 221b, 221b. John repeated it multiple times to imprint the number into his head as to not wander into the wrong room and see something he would not like to.

"Why do you get the top bunk?" John asked indignantly, still a bit irked with Sherlock. He, quite frankly, did not give a damn about what bed he slept in; he just felt like arguing with Sherlock. That was quite out of character for him, but he felt strangely comfortable around this odd fellow.

"I was here first," Sherlock answered simply.

"Oh, whatever. So, can you tell me how this whole operation thing works? I'm still really confused."

Sherlock turned, giving John a curious look. Had they not explained **anything **to him?

"Listen carefully, Alice, I dislike repeating myself. Operation Wonderland is an experiment testing the power of human imagination. We take a certain pill, putting us into a sleep like state and then we are hooked up to the J.A.B.B.E.R., which I'm still not sure means. The pill they use stimulates the imagination, which is key to the experiment. Once hooked up to the .B.E.R. Our minds are sent to Wonderland as a collective group. It would be you, codename Red Queen, codename Cheshire Cat, and me. We all have bodies to move around in and once in there our thoughts are entirely our own again. It's different from any experiment I've ever seen but it's so… fascinating."

John listened closely, taking this all in. This was all too strange but it was so exciting and so much could go wrong and it was just what he needed. "I see, when do I start?"

"Tomorrow."

Excitement began to grow in the pit of John's stomach. Finally, something was happening.

At promptly six a.m. John Watson awoke to Sherlock Holmes hanging over the side of his bed demanding a cup of coffee or tea, either would work he said.

"Sod off," was John's reply and he turned away from Sherlock in an attempt to fall asleep again.

At six thirty a.m. Sherlock woke him up again, but this time he had appeared to have been talking for a good ten minutes and finally realized John was not listening. "Wake up! This is important."

"What on Earth could be important at six thirty a.m.?"

"I want coffee."

_My name is John Watson and I am 37 years old.  
>They call me Alice.<br>Today I fall down the rabbit hole.  
>Today I begin to lose my mind.<em>

By the time John Watson fully awakes, Sherlock is gone. Probably went force someone else to make him coffee because when John is tired he does not get up for anyone, not even the enigmatic Sherlock Holmes.

After deciding on his favorite jumper – an off white one that was particularly cozy— he wandered out into the halls, quite lost as to where he could find breakfast or even just people in general. Most halls looked identical, except for a rare few markers explaining where the hell they were, but unfortunately there were none in this hall. Lovely.

He began walking in what he hoped was the direction of the lab where he first met Sherlock, that would seem the most likely place people would be. It was eerie almost, how identical everything was. Same walls, same doors, same signs, same air fresheners even! John looked behind him, seeing everything before him repeated.

John shut his eyes, attempting to remember the route he and Sherlock took, but to no avail. He sighed and rubbed his temples, extremely frustrated at becoming lost in a building. Out the corner of his eye, John noticed something move. Looking up, he saw a white rabbit, larger than any normal rabbit should be, and it was staring at him. "Bloody hell I need sleep," John mumbled and shook his head.

"Follow me!" the rabbit said, causing John to nearly fall over.

It's not every day one meets a talking rabbit and it's certainly not something one would know how to handle.

"You're late! I'm late! We're late we're late we're late! Follow me!" and with that the rabbit promptly hopped away with or without John.

"Oh my god, I'm following a hallucination," John groaned, internally shaking his head at himself. Here he was, a grown man, hallucinating like some crackhead or something and following it nonetheless? "I'm losing it," John decided and jogged after the rabbit.

"Wait up!" he called out, not wanting to get even more lost.

"We're late! Hurry up!"

John knew how idiotic it was to follow a rabbit that his mind made up, but he was curious. Perhaps that's why they called him Alice. But John was so bored with his life and so bored with blogging and so bored with doing nothing. This experiment was the first bit of fun he had in a long time so he was just going to go with what happened.

After a short while of running after the infuriatingly quick rabbit, they had arrived at the lab. Shocked, John looked at the rabbit with wonder, while simultaneously nearly gasping for breath from the sheer amount of running he had done. "Thank you," he panted, trying to feel normal about thanking a rabbit, a hallucination nonetheless.

The rabbit nodded and scampered off, leaving John in front of the doors he walked through yesterday. He paused a few moments to catch his breath, not quite wanting to walk in there panting like a dog, he already was called Alice and he did not want any more nonsense like that. Smoothing his jumper flat again, he proceeded to open the doors to the lab.

"You're late," a familiar voice said, and John groaned.

"You didn't wake me up!"

"You didn't get me coffee." Sherlock looked at John curiously and what appeared to be a smile flickered across his face and disappeared just as quickly.

Did Sherlock Holmes just smile at John? However rude it might be, John wasn't sure Sherlock was capable of smiling, not a fake smile, but a real one. He did not seem the type.

"No more flirting, it's getting boring," a stranger's voice interrupted, and John turned to see a younger fellow with a curious smile on his face staring at Sherlock. He had an almost gleeful tone but there was something about him that made John's flesh crawl. There was something off about him; he just couldn't put his finger on it.

"Moriarty, leave them alone and come take your pill," a young woman, not the same one who brought him here yesterday, but a kinder looking lady. Her nametag read Molly Hooper.

"You too, John," Molly continued, giving John a smile. "Don't be scared if you start seeing stuff, sometimes the pill kicks in early," she whispered to him, handing him a cup with a small blue pill.

He wanted to laugh and tell her how he didn't need a pill to see stuff, but then she'd think he was mad, something John did not particularly want.

"Here goes nothing," John mumbled to himself, popping the pill in his mouth and swallowing.

"Alright, let's get you hooked up," Molly said, leading John to where Moriarty and Sherlock were already in the J.A.B.B.E.R.s. "Oh, take off your jumper, too"

John groaned, but complied, pulling the warmth off his body, exposing his bare arms. Lying down in the cool metal machine, John tried not to squirm as he was stuck with needles and had some strange headgear stuck on his head.

"Try to relax, okay?"

John nodded and closed his eyes, breathing in and out deeply. For the first time, a bit of nerves came and he bit his lip as a painful sensation took over his body. It felt like fire coursing through his veins but John never showed a reaction to pain, he was trained not to after those years in Afghanistan. Each moment it seemed as if his body was heating from the inside when suddenly, everything went black.

"Welcome to Wonderland, Alice," a quiet voice murmured.


End file.
